


The Twitching of Whiskers

by RayShippouUchiha



Series: The Components of Construction [20]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe Of A Alternate Universe, Always Female Tony Stark, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War Team Iron Man, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Pre-Relationship, T'Chaka Lives (Marvel), Team Cap Critical, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28627512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayShippouUchiha/pseuds/RayShippouUchiha
Summary: “Your Majesty,” Toni inclines her head just a bit to King T’Chaka.“Miss Stark,” T’Chaka greets her in return but it’s there again, that hint of scorn, the shadow of Howard looming over her like an omen of misfortune, like the clenched fisted carrion creature he’d been in life.“Your Highness,” Toni turns a small nod and a polite smile in T’Challa’s direction.  “We haven’t been formally introduc-”“I know who you are, Stark,” T’Challa cuts back, obviously uninterested in even the barest hint of diplomacy that his father is still managing to hold onto where she’s concerned.  “Your reputation precedes you, just like your father before you.”
Relationships: Pre-Tony Stark/T'Challa
Series: The Components of Construction [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/495916
Comments: 90
Kudos: 1751
Collections: Finished111





	The Twitching of Whiskers

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning that this is more of a pre-IronPanther kind of fic that leaves itself open.

“Miss,” JARVIS’ voice cuts through Toni’s concentration as the music in the workshop abruptly goes silent.

“J?” Blinking, Toni cuts the power to her blowtorch with one hand and reaches up to remove her welding goggles with the other. “What’s going on, baby boy?”

“I must advise you to direct your attention towards the news.” There’s something almost tense in JARVIS’ voice as the television in the corner of the workshop switches from _Animal Planet_ to _CNN_ much to the bots obvious and vocal dismay.

Brows arched high in curiosity and worry just beginning to blossom in her stomach, Toni swivels on her stool to see what, exactly, is going on.

Because it has to be important if JARVIS is willing to interrupt the bots’ semi-religious viewing of _River Monsters_. Toni’s given serious thought to flying Jeremy Wade in sometime to meet the bots if for no other reason than the fact that she’s pretty sure U would actually swoon.

“ _Please_ tell me we’re not being invaded again already,” Toni half demands, half whines as unease and a now long familiar and always present fear begins to stir. “I had that penciled in somewhere between six years from now and never and you know I hate having my calculations thrown off and showing up to a party underdressed.”

Toni’s only half joking and they both know it.

An invasion now would be … less than ideal even with all of the preparations she’s been steadily making since New York.

Toni wants, _needs_ , more time to get more pieces on the board and in place if Earth is going to stand a chance at playing at the _higher level of war_ Thor had once hinted at. Not to mention all of the legislation that’s finally making its way down the pipeline after years of whispers and unease.

There just needs to be more time, as much as she can manage to carve out, before things go bad again.

But, if the past is precedent, then the odds are weighted far too heavily against her and time is likely to be one of the things Toni will seemingly never be able to get enough of.

“Indeed Miss,” JARVIS agrees even as the volume on the television begins to click upwards. “Though not another invasion, this will doubtlessly be yet another issue requiring your particular brand of … _finesse_.”

Brows arched high in interest, Toni focuses on the television just in time to see a plume of _scarlet_ shoot upwards into the sky right before an office building explodes outwards in a glut of flame and molten glass.

CNN’s scrolling chyron reads _Live: Avengers Battle In Lagos_.

Toni feels ice trace all the way down her spine and spread out into her bones.

“JARVIS,” Toni says faintly, voice coming as if from a distance, “get Priscilla on the phone and rally Legal and Recovery. We need to get on this. _Now_.”

“I’ve already taken the liberty, Miss,” JARVIS says quietly, grimly. “They are waiting for you now.”

Toni sucks in a shuddering breath, squares her shoulders, and puts her blow torch down with deliberate gentleness.

Her project is going to have to wait, there’s new work to be done now. A new crisis to manage, new messes to clean up.

But then, for Toni, when isn’t there?

~~~

The first thing Toni does is send aid.

Of course she does, of course it is.

It’s always the first thing she does in these moments. Moments when she’s blindsided, when she’s out of the loop, when she’s too late to do what really _matters_ and other people suffer for her _lack_.

She sends _Stark Recovery_ out in full force, outfitted for aid of all types and manned as it is with the remnants of SHIELD that she’d scooped up and cradled close in the aftermath of The Fall.

She goes herself too hours later after phone calls and emails and screaming has been done. She goes to lift beams, goes to set up generators, goes to help as much as she can in some pale imitation to the aftermath of New York, of London, of Sokovia.

It’s not enough. It has never been and will never be _enough_ in Toni’s eyes but … she still goes.

The others stay at the Compound, lingering in corners and in their rooms like silent phantoms.

Maximoff with her glassy eyes, Wilson with his sad shoulders, and Natasha with her pragmatism and her eternally unbowed spine.

And then … then there’s _Steve_.

Steve with his clenched jaw and his ever present _distraction_. Steve with his “we can’t save them all” and the way he never seems to look directly at her anymore.

And Toni doesn’t … she _can’t_ …

She thinks they might have lost something somewhere along the way. Thinks that they must have missed a step somewhere.

Thinks that something undefinable might have, _must have_ , broken between them, between all of them, because once it wouldn’t have just been her who left to try and help with a recovery effort.

But _now_...

Now Toni goes like she always does these days.

Too little, too late, always there for the aftermath.

 _Alone_.

And it’s not enough.

It will _never_ be enough.

But it’s all she has.

It’s all she can give.

And so she goes.

~~~

The legislation comes faster, backed by a Wakanda that seems intent to step out of the shadows. Spearheaded by a King T’Chaka that holds himself with an honest sort of dignity and confidence that Toni knows first hand is rare on what passes for most modern day royals.

It surprises a lot of people, irritates a lot more. The idea of some supposedly backwater nation of textile producers and goat herders thinking they have a right to guide legislation. There’s a lot of whispers about how just because Maximoff’s redirection had killed a few dozen of their aid workers it doesn’t mean they should suddenly be allowed to steer the legislative ship.

It doesn’t sit right with more than one delegation, Wakanda’s calm sort of power play.

But Toni?

It doesn’t surprise Toni at all.

Wakanda had lost people, good people out in the world trying to do more good for others. Had had them torn away thanks to a fight that should have never happened. Collateral damage that should have never been.

So of course they’re angry, of course they’re demanding and raging and pushing for more, better, faster.

It’s what Toni’s always done every time something or someone has attacked her or hers. It’s an understandable reaction.

Besides, Howard had always had so much to say about the supposedly impoverished nation, drunken rage filled ramblings about secrets and _power_.

And, while Toni’s never put much stock in _anything_ about Howard, there’s also the fact that certain parts of Africa have always given JARVIS so many _interesting_ readings over the years.

~~~

Days click by and Toni’s scared.

She’s so scared and it gets worse with every day, every hour that passes.

She needs to get even more of a hand on the wheel than she’s been trying to maintain. She needs to have input, needs to be settled firmly in the room where things are happening.

Because she believes in accountability with everything that she has but she can’t, _won’t_ , let this thing she’s seen coming for years now be something done _to_ them instead of _with_ them.

“Hey,” Rhodey’s voice is as soft as the hand he has buried in her hair, fingers gentle as he tugs them carefully through her riot of loose curls. “It’s gonna be okay, baby girl. We got this.”

“What if we don’t?” Toni whispers into the crook of his neck, one of the safest places she’s ever known. One of the only homes that’s never been taken from her through choice or by force. “What if it’s not enough? What if I can’t make it enough?”

“Then we do something else,” Rhodey soothes. “All of us. You’re not alone in this Toni. Remember that. You’ve got people in your corner for this, little girl. And together we’re going to make sure this whole thing goes the way it needs to, so that we can build something good from it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Toni agrees softly as she inhales the scent of leather and spice, the faintest traces of sweet vanilla.

Because it’s _Rhodey_. Because she loves and trusts him.

Because if he says it, _believes_ it, then what else is there for Toni to do besides everything in her power to make it so?

~~~

“Are you with me?” Toni cuts the quiet question in Natasha’s direction because out of all of the others besides Rhodey, Vision, and JARVIS, she knows that Natasha has also seen the writing on the wall.

And these days she trusts Natasha to be a second set of hands in matters that require this … particular brand of finesse as JARVIS likes to call it. It’s further proof that they’ve gotten closer than Toni would have ever imagined over the years. Time and blood and laughter laying the foundation for a sister-ship Toni’s never found with anyone outside of Pepper.

A sister-ship she’d never thought she’d be blessed to find once, not to mention twice.

“Of course, _Зайка_ ,” Natasha murmurs, one hand landing spider silk soft on Toni’s shoulder, fingertips drifting across the cut of her severe black top. “We will weather this storm just like our fossil always says.”

“Together,” Toni agrees even as she can’t help but quirk a small smile at the reminder of what’s become one of the team’s rallying cries. Even if it tastes just a bit bittersweet on the back of her tongue. “And I’m still not a _bunny_.”

Natasha just huffs, amused and fond in her own way, like she always does when Toni nitpicks at her choice of pet name.

Even with all of the strain and distance and _hurt_ that’s come to them after Ultron, after the fresh blood on Toni’s hands and the scarlet eating away at her _soul_ , after all of that at least this one thing still hasn’t changed.

At least Toni still has this.

~~~

Natasha at her side, her family at her back, and SI’s extensive legal team in her pocket, Toni rallies with the full force that she can muster.

The _Super Human Registration Act_ goes down in a fiery blaze. The _Sokovia Accords_ aren’t perfect, not by far, but they’re leagues better than the alternative with plenty of room to grow and change and become even better.

Toni kind of wants to buy King T’Chaka a fruit basket of some kind but, well …

“Stark,” T’Chaka doesn’t outright sneer but his tone and the coldness in his eyes does the job well enough for him.

As does the blank displeasure in the faces of the women, bodyguards obviously, who flank him. Or the barely hidden irritation that glares at her from the eyes of the man standing just behind him, the man who can only be his son, the illusive and rather devastatingly handsome Prince T’Challa.

“Your Majesty, a pleasure,” Toni nods, bites back anything else she might say.

She’s determined, for once, not to push and prod and provoke. To not rock a boat she’s only just managed to help turn the course of.

“Hm,” T’Chaka hums even as he turns to leave with his entourage in tow, an insult and dismissal more implied than outright spoken.

The sentiment is, obviously, not returned.

Which is, again, fair.

It seems like Toni will never be as free of Howard’s rage and scotch soaked ghost as she wants to be.

_Goddamn him._

~~~

 _Ross_.

Toni has no idea who he begged, cheated, or stole from to get this job but whoever it is she fully intends to find them and rake them over every coal she can possibly find.

Because he’s the _U.S. Secretary of State_ and very much _not_ the United Nations liaison Toni had thought, had been _informed_ , would be coming to the Compound to officially discuss the ratification of the Sokovia Accords.

He shouldn’t be the one standing in this meeting room, that barely concealed derision and greed shining bright and ugly in his eyes as he stares around the room at her team.

But there’s nothing Toni can do about it. Not at the moment. Though she’s sure JARVIS is already drafting a very pointed and barbed email in her name because he has her back like that.

And Ross’ past actions or his more recent pointed comments about her and about enhanced individuals in general have very much not endeared him to her baby boy either.

But, again, that’s an issue, a whole different set of worries, for future Toni to deal with unfortunately.

Right now her focus has to be _here_ , has to be right in front of her.

So Toni settles back in her chair, tucked away in the corner of the conference room, the reassurance of two walls behind her and everyone in her field of vision helping to settle the nerves she can’t, _won’t_ , show.

All she can do now is hope that what she’s managed to accomplish will, somehow, be enough.

~~~

Ross brings video footage, brings cutting words and wields his derision like a finely honed blade.

He tosses the Sokovia Accords down on the table like the ultimatum it contains is more important than what it stands for. 

And, with ice crawling down her spine, all Toni can do is _watch_.

~~~

Steve sits at the table solemn and hard jawed, the Accords in hand as he flicks through them.

The argument’s been going back and forth around the room and Toni just …

Accountability is _important_. It _is_.

Toni has fought for it, advocated for it, bleed for it since the day that bomb exploded and upended her entire world.

She has blood on her hands that will never come off and it stains everything she touches, she knows that. Just like she knows that’s her personal wet and agonizing weight to carry and not the teams.

But that doesn’t mean that accountability is any less necessary.

The Avengers are meant to be _for_ the people, after all, and not _above_ them.

Their mistakes are big, world changing. Their rules and games of play should be too.

“This,” Steve grimaces, “this just seems an awful lot like government control Toni. They get to tell us what to do, where to go. Who to help. I don’t ...”

“Not sure how comfortable I am with being _shackled_ ,” Maximoff speaks up for the first time at Vision’s side.

“It’s not enslavement, it’s _gun control_ ,” Toni can’t help but sneer just a bit because she’s tired and she’s angry and she doesn’t understand why they don’t _get it_ , “because we’re a bunch of _unchecked goddamn rifles._ ”

Vision steps in then, voice smooth and calm as he spouts facts and statistics.

For a split second it almost looks as if things might work out, that they might be able to reach a tentative common ground that they can at least start to build on.

And then …

“Miss,” JARVIS’ voice is soft and gentle in her ear, hesitant and careful in that way he only gets when something is _wrong_.

Sitting at the table Steve reaches for his phone and, for just a split second, Toni sees something in his expression crumble, sees some spark of something she doesn’t know how to name snuff itself out in his eyes.

“I regret to inform you that I have some rather distressing news,” JARVIS tells her softly.

And in that moment Toni’s entire world grinds to a halt.

~~~

Toni _hates_ the funeral.

Hates the picture. Hates the flowers. Hates everything about it.

They should have used one of the photos of Aunt Peggy laughing with her family, hair gone grey and face lined with the years of laughter and pain she’d always been so proud of. Should have shown her as the woman she’d become later on in life with the age she’d worn with dignity and grace instead of forever frozen as that twenty something ideal she’d been for so many during and after the war.

They should have draped her casket in orange blossoms and tea roses, in a riotous spill of colors and scent.

Toni should have been able to sit in one of the pews instead of lurking in the upper wing of the cathedral like a ghost.

But they didn’t.

And she can’t.

So it goes.

~~~

“Never let them make you small, ducky. If you want it and they don’t want to let you have it then you _take it_ ,” Aunt Peggy had always told her. Had pressed that lesson into her bones and her soul over and over again until it became just as much a part of Toni as Jarvis’ love and the story of Icarus.

So Toni puts her sunglasses on, squares her shoulders, and presses forwards.

She’ll come back, she knows she will. Will return to this, Aunty Peggy’s final resting place, over and over again in the days and weeks and years to come.

Tethered to this stone just as she’s been tethered to Jarvis’ grave since she was sixteen and breaking apart inside like a comet burning up in the atmosphere.

Like Icarus losing feathers in the fall.

~~~

Vienna isn’t the first place Toni had thought the _Accords Summit_ would be held but then again the VIC does play host to the UN Office of Outer Space Affairs so maybe she should have.

It’s either that or someone somewhere in the scheduling department at the UN has a sense of humor just a touch off base.

Either way there’s no way in hell she’d allow something like this to take place without her being her in the center of it, heels on the ground and doing what she can.

“Off to charm more politicians?” Natasha’s hand on her arm is long familiar by now and Toni draws just a bit of comfort from the fact that, like Rhodey had said, she’s not here alone.

JARVIS is in her ear, Vision’s at the Compound tending the home fires, Rhodey’s checking in with some contacts, and Toni is here with Natasha at her side.

It’s not perfect but … it helps.

“You know what they say don’t you?” Toni gives her a sly sort of grin. “No rest for the wicked and _I_ don’t have a single good bone in my perfect body. Rotten to the very core.”

“Lies and slander,” Natasha murmurs. “You’re engine grease and candy floss and we all know it.”

“Oh and now who’s being insulting?” Toni cuts back smoothly. “I’m _at least_ the high grade Thor tier carnival junk food. Like candy apples or deep fried candy bars or something with enough punch to _really_ make you regret it later. You should know this by now Itsy Bitsy, it’s a matter of pride.”

The laugh Natasha gives back is small, more of a breathy exhale than anything, but Toni still enjoys it. It’s been a long road between the two of them to get this far, to get to this place of ease and comfort.

“Toni,” Natasha finally sighs just a bit, the playfulness of earlier melting away.

“ _Nat_ ,” Toni half warns, half commands because she can see in her face, can feel it in the gentle stroke of her fingers on her arm, just where Natasha intends to go with this.

“I’m sorry for her passing,” Natasha slides right past her half hearted protest. “She was an extraordinary woman. I’m sorry you lost her. I’m sorry the world did.”

Toni takes a split second to breathe before she bundles the hurt she hasn’t let herself feel yet back down even tighter, tucks it away in the center of her chest behind the reactor. Right there where she keeps all the rest of her weak spots.

“Show must go on,” Toni finally says. “It … it’s what she would have wanted.”

“Well then,” Natasha nods just a bit ahead of them, “I guess I should let you work then. Maybe the Iron Queen can soften up His Majesty just a bit.”

“Oh,” Toni huffs wryly as she eyes the grim expression on King T’Chaka’s face, “somehow I highly doubt that. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try though.”

“Of course not _Зайка_ ,” Natasha tells her, untangling their arms with a small parting pat. “Now get out there and work your magic.”

“Still not your bunny,” Toni tosses back on reflex even as she moves to intercept the Wakandan monarch and his son.

“Your Majesty,” Toni inclines her head just a bit to King T’Chaka.

“Miss Stark,” T’Chaka greets her in return but it’s there again, that hint of scorn, the shadow of Howard looming over her like an omen of misfortune, like the clenched fisted carrion creature he’d been in life. 

“Your Highness,” Toni turns a small nod and a polite smile in T’Challa’s direction. “We haven’t been formally introduc-”

“I know who you are, _Stark_ ,” T’Challa cuts back, obviously uninterested in even the barest hint of diplomacy that his father is still managing to hold onto where she’s concerned. “Your reputation precedes you, just like your father before you.”

And Toni?

Well Toni’s never met a social nicety she hasn’t stepped on at least once. She’s cut, insulted and derided people, and Justin Hammer, from around the world. And most of the time she’s enjoyed every moment of it.

But that’s always been _personal_ , has always been about the _individual_.

Because when it comes to things like religion, like culture, like _race_?

Well beyond the necessity of cultural awareness that had always come hand in hand with SI, and the fact that she grew up and came to power in one of those cliché _woman in a man’s world_ type of settings, Toni’s lived in Rhodey’s pocket since she was _fifteen_.

She’s seen the kind of backwards shit he’s had to deal with just because of the beauty of his skin. Has even been arrested once or twice in direct relation to it even if the charges never seemed to stick.

So she, with all sincerity, has always tried to be … respectful of a _people_ if not a _person_. And Wakanda is an unknown entity that plays by rules she’s never heard of.

But, that being said, royalty or not, unknown entity or not, there’s one or two buttons she’s always had a hard time not reacting to when they’re pressed.

And Toni is _tired_ , is stretched thin and _aching_ with a barely bitten back grief almost a decade in the making. Backed by a fear that had taken root inside of her on the other side of a wormhole and refused to let her go, strangle vines wrapped around her soul.

Her weak points might be hidden but, well, her push points are sometimes far easier to find.

Howard will, damn him to an even deeper pit of hell, always be a target.

And Prince T’Challa? Well he seems to have _very_ good aim.

“Oh I’m well aware of my reputation,” Toni’s smile is sharp, a baring of fangs more than anything. “But then again we all know we can trust everything the press prints don’t we?”

T’Chaka snorts beside her, a small and indelicate sound, but Toni’s attention stays firmly fixed on T’Challa.

“And as for _Howard_?” The edges of her lips curl just a bit as they always do when she’s forced to say his name. “He’s been dead and buried for far too few years by now so really it’s only me you have to worry your pretty little head about, _darling_. And unlike some I’ve always been more bite than bark.”

T’Challa’s expression _quivers_ , flicking between what seems like a wry sort of amusement and irritation, before it smooths back out again.

There’s a moment of tense silence before T’Chaka cuts into the staring contest that seems to be quickly developing.

“Was there something beyond pleasantries you wished to discuss, Miss Stark?” T’Chaka calls both of their attention back to him.

“Just wanted to touch base,” Toni inclines her head in his direction again. “Maybe even see about arranging a future meeting once things have settled a bit.”

“And what would _the Toni Stark_ want with Wakanda?” T’Chaka asks, a shrewd light that Toni recognizes so easily glinting bright and hard in his eyes.

“Want is such an _aggressive_ choice of term,” Toni’s smile is picture perfect. “In this case I’d prefer ... _request_. And to cut to the chase since our time is running out all I’d like to _request_ from _you_ , and not Wakanda, is some of your time at a later date. No fuss, no muss, no ... _strings_.”

“There are _always_ strings,” T’Challa points out dryly.

“And sometimes they can be fun,” Toni keeps her eyes on T’Chaka. “But that’s after party talk, Your Highness. What I’m proposing is a lot more free form, if you will.”

Across the room the call for order and for everyone to take their seats is given, an aid scurrying across the floor to shift antsily a few feet away from where the three of them are standing in a loose huddle.

“Perhaps we will be able to revisit this conversation as you said, Miss Stark,” T’Chaka allows, already turning towards the professionally disheveled woman trying to get his attention. “Once things have settled to a more acceptable level. Until then I am afraid I have other obligations to attend to.”

“Of course,” Toni agrees. “I’m looking forward to your speech, Your Majesty. Believe it or not we share a common outlook on a number of issues.”

Toni gives the calm faced T’Challa another nod, turns on her heel, and saunters back towards the set of seats that have been reserved for her and Natasha.

“That looked like it was going well,” Natasha murmurs as Toni settles down beside her, slipping her lightly tinted rose-lensed sunglasses on as she goes.

“Well,” Toni offers, crossing one leg over the other and attention already splitting between the feed out JARVIS is giving her on the smart glass and the way last minute checks are being done, “it was certainly _going_.”

The speeches that are scheduled, for all that they’re supposed to be focused on the absolutely groundbreaking legislation they’re gathered to discuss, are certain to be dull.

Just looking through the itinerary makes it easy to tell the difference between which representatives and dignitaries are truly passionate about the issues set before them and which ones are simply interested in making sure their voices are recorded in history.

Toni passes the little bit of time until opening proceedings reading emails, keeping track of the feed JARVIS is sending her, and using her free hand to play the occasional game of thumb wars with Natasha who, as always, cheats.

She only really perks up when T’Chaka finally takes the podium for his speech. He’s been such a driving force and outspoken and solid voice during this push for the Accords that she is, just as she told him before, legitimately interested in his speech. The fact that he’s been granted the keynote address says a lot about how the Wakandan monarch had come directly out of the gate swinging.

He’s been speaking for roughly seven or eight minutes when JARVIS pipes up in her ear.

“Miss,” JARVIS’ voice is low and calm but focused in that way that Toni knows means business. “I have detected movement and distress in the media crowds gathered just outside of the building.”

Toni immediately goes stiff because _that’s not right_.

“There was supposed to be a hard perimeter,” Toni half snarls. Natasha immediately goes rigid, attention focusing in on her with laser-like precision. “No press within a half a mile. There’s been too much unrest.”

“An incendiary device has been discovered,” JARVIS cuts in. “I have deployed additional armor in your direction. T-minus ten second to detonation.”

By the window T’Challa turns towards his father, horror on his face, and Toni reacts without thinking.

“ _JARVIS cover T’Chaka_ ,” Toni barks as she surges to her feet, Natasha by her side. “ _Everyone get down._ ”

After that everything seems to happen at once.

The armor bursts through the window, T’Challa lunges forwards, and the world seems to shift and tremble, the building almost rolling beneath Toni’s feet as she barrels into the person closest to her, an older dignitary with white hair who screams when Toni knocks him off his chair and curls herself around his head.

Behind and around her Toni feels the warm weight of Natasha doing the same thing to her but she can’t focus on that.

It takes a minute for the world to settle again and even through the ringing in her ears Toni can hear it when the screaming starts.

Natasha uncurls from around her, hands already running over Toni’s neck and shoulders and then down the length of her spine in a wellness check that had been hard to adjust to in the beginning.

“I’m alright,” Toni rasps out as she manages to sit up, a quick glance telling her the man she’d tackled looks shaken up but overall fine. “JARVIS has called in reinforcements, go help the others.”

Natasha doesn’t argue with her. Instead, with one last pat to Toni’s shoulder, she just goes, weaving around chairs and rubble to check on those who seem the most injured.

Toni pushes herself to her feet and heads towards the front of the room.

T’Challa is hunched over the armor, hands pulling at the plates and desperation on his face, by the time she makes it to his side.

“Don’t,” Toni wraps her fingers around his wrist, not flinching when he turns towards her with a snarl. JARVIS’ voice is a calming presence in her ear as he reads out what he can in her ear. “ _Calm down_. This armor is versatile but it wasn’t built for someone your father’s size. He’s a lot taller and wider than I am. The plating had to shift to account for that so there’s no telling how much of the integrity had to be sacrificed. Jostling it could hurt him worse.”

It might be a little bit of an exaggeration but Toni needs T’Challa calm and not focused on trying to peel his father out of her armor like his new mission in life is to double as a can opener.

T’Challa bites out something in Xhosa that Toni doesn’t bother to translate. His tone and expression says it all for him.

Instead she just holds onto him, her fingers clamped around his wrists and her attention on his face and the cut on his forehead that is healing even as she stares at it.

 _Interesting_.

It seems as if Wakanda really is hiding more than anyone else seems to realize.

After a long, fraught moment T’Challa nods, something easing more than relaxing in his expression.

“Open the faceplate,” Toni commands, knowing that JARVIS will do as she asks without any fuss.

The armor’s faceplate slips down and away, the shell of the helmet remaining to keep T’Chaka’s neck stabilized just in case.

And to Toni’s relief T’Chaka stares back up at them, eyes wide and face pale but otherwise looking relatively unharmed.

“ _Baba_ ,” the shuddering sigh T’Challa breathes out is enough to make Toni release him even as a piece of her heart twinges at the sheer amount of emotion packed into that single word.

“T’Challa,” T’Chaka rasps, relief flooding his features before he grimaces in obvious pain.

“Your Majesty,” Toni breaks in. “Please don’t try to move.”

“Stark,” T’Chaka’s attention turns towards her then. “W-What? How did you?”

It’s obvious what he’s asking.

“I always keep tight security in public. I got word there was unrest on the ground level, close to the building,” Toni tells him, attention flickering to the side for a moment as the women she recognizes as the Wakandan security detail seem to almost appear around them. “This was supposed to be a hardened facility with a half mile perimeter during the talks. Press wasn’t cleared until afterwards. Heard chatter about an incendiary device. And now we’re here and you’ve got at least one broken rib from the armor slamming into you with no warning so I’d _really_ prefer it if you wouldn’t move.”

“Thank you,” T’Challa speaks up then, one hand coming out to wrap his fingers around her wrist in a mirror of the move she’d pulled only minutes ago. “You save my father’s life, thank you.”

Toni can’t help but shift just a bit in the face of his open and honest gratitude.

He really is handsome but more than that he radiates that same sort of steady _goodness_ that has always managed to put her on the back foot somehow.

Toni hears the tell-tale sound of more armors arriving under JARVIS’ careful command and it’s enough to snap her attention back to where it needs to be.

“You’re welcome,” Toni tells him softly, no sarcasm or jokes to be found, just her being careful and honest in that way she so rarely is outside of family.

Toni has lived through this kind of thing, knows the fear T’Challa had felt first hand.

Only her situation hadn’t turned out nearly so well.

There’d been no one there that night with armor ready to save what she’d lost. No one to protect Jarvis, to stop a tragic accident from stealing something incalculably precious from Toni.

It feels good to know that she’d managed to do that for someone else.

~~~

Everything’s a bit of a whirlwind after that.

Toni sets the armors JARVIS had sent her to making sure the building is both secure and stable, passing on judgements and assessments both whenever and wherever necessary to make the evacuation as swift and safe as possible for everyone involved.

The death toll is already beginning to roll in and as the number climbs so does the icy feeling of rage in Toni’s stomach.

The bodyguards, the Dora as T’Challa calls the two women, are fierce and formidable and they get a still armor wrapped T’Chaka loaded into an ambulance and off to the nearest secure hospital with no one daring to step in their way.

Toni stays behind, T’Challa lingering at her side and Natasha watching her with narrowed eyes from across the road near one of the benches.

“You’re not going with him?” Toni asks carefully.

“The Dora will see my father to safety until he can be returned to Wakanda’s care,” T’Challa tells her with an elegant sort of shrug.

“I don’t know what happened but I’m going to find out,” Toni tells him honestly. “This kind of attack … I won’t let it stand.”

“Wakanda owes you a debt,” T’Challa inclines his head in her direction, face softer than she’s ever seen it before. “And those who have died here today deserve justice. My father has given permission for me to aid the investigation. In any way possible, or necessary.”

“There’s no debt,” Toni denies, mind already whirling at what, exactly, T’Challa might mean because she can practically taste the existence of a subtext she doesn’t understand yet.

“You saved my father’s life,” T’Challa points out again.

“I’m an Avenger,” Toni tells him. “It’s what we’re supposed to do, ideally. And besides …”

Toni trails off, mind drawn yet again to the thoughts of a gravestone, of the smell of fresh bread and lemon furniture polish. To the man who had once been the entire world to her. 

“I might be just a girl in a can,” Toni tells T’Challa and anything and everything that might somehow be listening, “but all I want is to do whatever I can do, whatever I have to do, to keep people safe. And if that means acting like I did here, today, or if that means standing against some higher threat heading in our direction then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Well said,” T’Challa tells her softly, a small half smile curling across his face as he reaches out to take one of her hands in his own. The kiss he lays against her knuckles is soft and almost playful. “Perhaps Wakanda would be interested in seeing such a worthy goal come to fruition. We do have a few tricks hidden up our sleeves that even you might find surprising. As … allies and perhaps even one day friends.”

“I’d be honored,” Toni answers, a small but noticeable piece of weight lifting off of her shoulders as T’Challa releases her hand.

It’s always nice to have people willing to believe her.

Hopefully this will be the start of a new age of cooperation with Wakanda stepping into the light to help protect the entire world from what Toni knows is headed their way.

 _‘Because,’_ Toni can’t help but think even as the skin of her knuckles tingles and JARVIS pipes up in her ear again, _‘they’re all going to need all the help she can manage to round up.’_

**Author's Note:**

> The world lost a light when we lost Chadwick Boseman.
> 
> Now I consider this done with no intention of continuing it anytime soon given the circumstances but I do hope you guys enjoyed it and that you'll let me know what you think.
> 
> As always come scream at me:
> 
> http://rayshippouuchiha.tumblr.com/


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